


Of You, Not For You

by confetti_ina_coffin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, But it will be finished, Diary/Journal, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Invasion of Privacy, JUST, Keith (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Robbery, a bit actually, and a diary, because it is currently unfinished, but its not really a diary, eventually, sorry - Freeform, they are sophmores
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetti_ina_coffin/pseuds/confetti_ina_coffin
Summary: Keith has a secret feelings journal for his anxiety.He'd like it to stay that way; secret.Unfortunately, but also quite predictably, it doesn't go the way he had hoped.





	Of You, Not For You

**Author's Note:**

> so. this is kinda bad ok. im warning you right now.
> 
> i wrote this like. a while ago and i decided to proofread it and post it because i actually want to see if its worth continuing with any haste.
> 
> i am going to finish this but depending on how many people like it is how fast it will get out.
> 
> (even then it probs wont me too fast because of life. yknow.
> 
> also, title may change.)
> 
> so. yeah.
> 
> enjoy!

Keith made his way through the maze that was Altea High School cafeteria, dodging the other students where they sat and stood.

He was having a really long day, and he just wanted to destress with his friends during lunch.

 

He quite possibly had the worst presentation of his life in HIstory, and it was all Lance’s fault.

 

First, he got to class, and one douche in particular named Rolo had taken his usual seat, and they didn't have their usual teacher, so it's not like he could even do anything.

 

And then, because they had a sub, Keith and his group had to present their project first, even though Keith had pretty bad anxiety to start with and it's not like he could explain that to the sub, and Lance wasn't even there to calm him down or explain to the sub and it's not like their other group member, Plaxum, would help because she was Lance’s ex and that's probably why he didn't show up in the first place-

 

Keith took a calming breath.  It didn't matter anymore. The presentation was fine, he told himself, even without Lance.  Their usual teacher would understand if Keith could explain it to him.

 

He probably wouldn't though.

 

Whatever.

 

He didn't want to think about it anymore.

 

Sighing with relief, he sat down in his usual spot at his usual table, next to where his friend Pidge sat in their spot.

 

“Fucking hate Ms. Richardson,” the small teen said.  Keith laughed. “She is definitely a bitch,” he agreed.  Keith was already feeling better.

 

Pidge stabbed a fork into the macaroni on their plate.  “The biggest bitch to ever bitch in history,” Pidge finished.  “I wonder if she’s related to Mrs. Haggar,” Keith pondered.

 

Just then, Hunk sat and joined them at the table, sitting across from Pidge.  “Hey guys!” he greeted happily. Pidge groaned in response, scooping macaroni into her mouth.

 

Hunk looked to Keith questioningly.  “Ms. Richardson,” he simply stated, and Hunk nodded in agreement.

 

The three of them lapsed into silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.  It was nice to sit with his friends, enjoying their company, and to people-watch.

 

The cafeteria was thick with students of all shapes and sizes, all doing relatively the same thing.  Eating, talking to each other, or catching up on homework. Most doing all three at the same time.

 

“‘Sup fuckers!” came a shout, and Lance plopped down at their table, across from Keith.  Said teen promptly kicked him in the shin.

 

“Hey!” he yelled, bringing his leg up and rubbing the violated spot.  “What was that for?”

 

“For flaking out on the group presentation in History, you ass,” Keith replied, kicking the other shin.  Lance shouted again, lifting that leg to his chest as well.

 

“Lance, you know your mom is going to have your ass for skipping again!” Hunk reprimanded.  The teen just rolled his eyes, picking up his fork. “Mom and Dad are on a business trip ‘til three in the mornin’, and the school calls our landline,” he said.  “I can head home and delete it before they get back.”

 

Hunk shook his head, picking up his carton of milk.  Keith continued to glare. “I had to go up there with your bimbo bitch of an ex, Plaxum, and do your part of the presentation even though _you_ had it memorized!” he growled.  Lance just reached over, patting Keith's head like he was a dog.

 

“It's fine, I heard we had a sub today anyway.  I'm sure they graded easily.”

 

Keith just rolled his eyes, slapping Lance’s hand away.  Pidge raised their eyebrows at him, looking at him and Lance.  Keith flipped them off.

 

“Yeah, the sub was Mr. Smythe, right?” Hunk asked, attempting to diffuse the situation.  Keith nodded. “He said to call him Coran, I think that's his first name.”

 

Pidge groaned again.  “He's a horrible sub,” they said.  Hunk frowned. “Why do you say that?  He's nice!” The small teen gave Hunk a deadpan stare.

 

“He trails off way too much during lessons, I can't take good notes,” they explained grumpily.  Lance cooed at them. “Lucky I missed out on that then, huh Keith?” The black haired boy glared at Lance in response, sipping his milk.  Lance raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Why are you drinking that?” he asked.  “You're lactose intolerant, remember?” Keith nodded, setting it down.  “I crave death,” he stated as an answer. Pidge lifted their hand, and Keith high-fived it.

 

Hunk shook his head, poking his lunch.  “I will never understand your humor,” he murmured.

 

“You know what I will never understand?” Pidge asked suddenly, lifting their head off the table.  The rest of the teens looked at them expectantly.

 

“I will never understand why Mr. Alfor won't just fire Ms. Richardson!” they shouted.  Keith huffed a laugh. “Mr. Alfor doesn't have the time, he's too busy trying to get Lance to stop skipping.”

 

Lance crossed his arms.  “Mr. Alfor is too busy reading the million page criminal record Keith has, and determining if he should even be allowed to pass!” he retorted.  Keith tsked. “That was way too long, you lost me like, halfway through.”

 

Lance smirked at him.  “ _That's_ what she said.”  Pidge snorted. “I'm not sure when, and I'm not sure why, but I really don't wanna know.”

 

The lanky teen tightened his crossed arms in response, huffing.  Keith hid his smile behind another sip of milk, forcing down thoughts that he really didn't want to deal with at this moment.

 

Keith had a good relationship with all of his friends, but he was closest to Pidge.  His older brother, Shiro, was best friends with Pidge’s older brother, Matt, so the two had naturally become close.  They also had similar humor, which was nice.

 

At the beginning of last year, their freshman year, Pidge introduced Keith to their two other friends, Lance and Hunk.  Keith didn't know them previously since he was in different classes than them and Pidge.

 

Hunk was a big friendly jelly-bean.  He gave out amazing hugs all the time, and he was someone you could count on.  He also was incredibly good at reading people and had amazing instincts. That's what made him a natural genius.

 

Lance was… a character.  He and Keith weren't sure how to get along at first, seeing as how Lance was loud and outgoing, and Keith was quieter and reserved, but the two of them found similarities and bonded.

 

It hadn't taken long for Keith to develop feelings for Lance, but it had taken much longer for him to acknowledge them.  After he had done so, he always felt a bit weirder around Lance.

 

Hunk, Pidge, and Keith were all very accepting of Keith, for which he was glad for.  It did make sense though since Hunk was pansexual and Pidge was a fellow homosexual.  Lance himself was bisexual. Keith had smiled learning that fact about his friend.

 

But he didn't smile now.  Lance being bisexual just meant that Keith had that many people to compete with, not that he stood a legitimate chance in the first place.

 

Lance had made his type of men very clear.  From the way he looks at Shiro when they’re over at Keith's house, or even Lotor in the hall (no matter how much they all hated him), it was obvious he wanted a well kept, muscly type of guy.  The way he fawned over Shiro, Keith knew he wanted someone nice and respectable and approachable and self-assured and Keith…

 

Keith wasn't any of that.

 

Keith was small build and mean and quiet and anxious and he couldn't even order for himself at a restaurant.  Keith only ever spoke out if it was for his friends’ benefit, not his own, and he kept a fucking “ _feelings_ _journal_ ”, something Shiro insisted would help him during his stressful school days and help him work out problems he didn't feel like he could share.

 

And even if Keith bashed it and complained to Shiro about how much he hated it, it really did help.  It was somewhere to vent without feeling like he was bothering anyone and a place he could write anything and everything down on.

 

After three months, it had become a habit of his to write in it before he went to bed unless he was especially tired.

 

Naturally, though, he kept his “feeling journal” away from his friends.  He didn't dare tell them about it because he knew they would poke fun at him for it.

 

Well, Hunk wouldn't, but Pidge would jab at him every-so-often if they knew, and Lance wouldn't let him live it down.

 

So Keith had kept it a secret and hid the journal in his bottom drawer in his desk, under stacks of unopened printer paper and his old binders he kept for memories sake.  No one knew where it was except for Keith, not even Shiro.

 

Lance rolled his eyes in response to Pidge’s comment, leaning forward again to look at the food on all of his friends’ trays.  “You guys got anything you wanna give to good ol’ Lancey Lance?” he asked.

 

Keith grunted, pulling his tray closer to him, and Pidge did the same.  Hunk contemplated his own tray for a moment before giving Lance a packaged bag of apple slices.

 

“Oh come on Hunk!” he complained.  “This is too ‘healthy.’ I’ll bet it tastes like soap.”

 

Hunk shrugged, patting his friend on the back.  “Just start packing your own lunch, man, people do it all the time!”

 

But Lance groaned in reply.  “Come on man! I need something sweet to take my mind off my worries!”

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him.  “What do you have to worry about?”

 

“Physics,” he said in reply.  Pidge sighed. “Physics is fine.  It's Mr. Zarkon you don't like.”

 

Lance slammed his hands down on the table, making Hunk and Keith jump.  “That's the point! He doesn't even care!”

 

Hunk took another bite of his food, Pidge pulling out their phone.  Keith tilted his head, keeping his eyes on Lance across from him.

 

Lance had complained about Mr. Zarkon countless times before.  It got to the point that Pidge and Hunk would tune him out, and Keith used to as well, but today he hadn't gotten to see Lance during HIstory since he skipped, and he was missing his voice.

 

“He just gives us workbooks and doesn't even explain it, and I can't get it unless someone _explains_ it and it's so--” he groaned loudly to express his frustration.  Keith hid a smile behind his hand.

 

It was all complaints they had heard before, but it didn't make them any less valid.

 

(And if Keith was really just refamiliarizing himself with Lance’s voice, then no one really needed to know.)

 

“All the fucking formulas and whatever the fuck they’re for and I can't!” he ended the statement dropping his head into his arms.  Keith rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

 

“Why don't you study with Keith?” Pidge asked from next to said teen.  Keith whipped his head towards them so fast he might as well have gotten whiplash.

 

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, his voice muffled from where he hid.  Keith stared at the light brunette in warning.

 

“Well, Keith has Mrs. Carter for physics, so he’s getting the subject a lot better than you are.”  Keith's chest squeezed at the thought of studying one-on-one with Lance.

 

Lance lifted his head, resting his chin on his arms.  He pondered Pidge’s words for a moment. “Why can't I study with you or Hunk?” he questioned.  Keith’s chest squeezed again, unpleasantly this time.

 

Of course, he wouldn't be Lances top pick for a study buddy.  He was known to have a short temper, and Lance and Keith had never really hung out together, away from Hunk or Pidge.  It would be odd, and anyway, Hunk and Pidge were miles better than Keith at any science or technology subject, so either of them would be the ideal partners.

 

Pidge had already thought of an excuse for this though.  “Hunk is working on his engineering project for the next two weeks, and I'm helping him, not to mention I have to help my dad in his office.”  They smiled knowingly as Keith stared at their profile. “Keith would be the best to study with you, schedule-wise.”

 

Lance pondered these words again, squinting his eyes at the ceiling of the cafeteria in thought.  Keith twitched nervously in his seat, waiting for his final decision.

 

Then, Lance looked at Keith in front of him and smiled.  “Could you really tutor me?” he asked.

 

Keith gulped.  “Y-yeah, I could,” he stuttered out, cursing himself.

 

Lance sat up in his seat, eyeing Keith suspiciously.  “ _Would_ you, though?  That is the question.”

 

Keith chuckled nervously, glancing at Pidge to see them smiling knowingly at him.  He made a point to get revenge later somehow.

 

He turned back to Lance.  “I would, yeah.”

 

The smile that grew on Lance's face would make it worth it.  “Fuck, thank you man!” he said, leaning forward. Keith laughed, ducking his head to hide his blush.  He poked at his lunch again.

 

“I’m free to study Wednesday afternoon if that's okay?” Lance said, scratching his face in thought.  Keith himself reviewed his schedule in his mind. Today was Tuesday, so he would have time to clean up his room and around the house, and also review his own notes so he knew what he was talking about.  Keith nodded.

 

Lance smiled again, big and bright, right at Keith.  “Great!” he said. “I'll be at your house after school then.”

 

Keith nodded again, telling himself his blush wasn't as obvious as he thought it was.

 

He glanced at Pidge beside him again.  The look they gave him said he was wrong.  He groaned internally.

 

***

 

_Monday, November 19_

 

_Today was a good day, I think.  Breakfast this morning was amazing!  Shiro cooked scrambled eggs and a hash brown, and it made me feel happy starting the day.  However, we had a presentation in history class in our groups and Lance decided to skip out that day.  We also had a substitute, so my group, Plaxum and I, went first._

 

_I was really nervous and I just wanted to sit down because everyone was looking at me, but I told myself that no one was paying attention and Paxum and I got the presentation done without Lance.  Afterward, I excused myself from the class and calmed down completely in the bathroom. I had to read his parts and I didn't know them, but I think I did well. I was still angry he skipped though._

 

_I told him as much during lunch today, although I left out the part when I almost have an attack.  Pidge and Hunk were there, and I didn't want them to feel sorry for me or bad for me._

 

_On Wednesday, in the afternoon, Lance is going to come over to my house so I can help him with physics.  He had Mr. Zarkon and apparently he's an asshole, which I don't doubt. I feel bad for Lance that he has to have a shitty teacher, and I'm glad I can help him.  Technically, Pidge was the one that set it up for me, and I may get revenge on them eventually, but I'm actually thankful they did that for me. I don't think I would have done it on my own._

 

_My room is messy, so I think I'll come straight home tomorrow so I can tidy a bit first.  Mrs. Price usually comes to clean on Thursdays so mom and dad can pay her on Fridays, so the house is a bit messy from the weekend._

 

_I'm still pretty nervous about Lance coming over.  What if he doesn't like my room or something? What if I do something embarrassing?  I probably will at some point. This is the first time I'll actually be hanging out with only Lance, alone.  I'll ask Pidge for some advice or something on the bus tomorrow morning if I don't forget._

 

_Overall, today was a good day.  I got a few things done, and I'm excited about the plans I have with my friends.  We have all come a long way I think, especially Lance and I._

 

***

 

The mornings were growing steadily colder.  Keith could tell as he stood by the bus stop, shivering, even wearing a jacket.  He refused to go back to the house, however, Shiro had told him it was cold, and he didn't want to prove his older brother right.  There was also the possibility he would miss the bus.

 

But Keith did consider it.  He weighed the options in his head, but before he could properly decide, the bus arrived.

 

Keith got on, taking out his phone and glancing at the time.  It had been later than he had thought. He shrugged, sitting down in his seat next to Pidge just as the bus started moving.

 

The small teen already sitting didn't even glance at him.  “Sup fucker?” they used the groups usual greeting.

 

Keith shrugged in response.  “Life, the usual shit.”

 

Pidge’s eyebrows raised as they read something on their phone.  “Holy shit…” they murmured. Keith glanced over at them. “What happened?”

 

“Another robbery happened.  Across town,” they answered, absorbed in their reading.  Keith's own eyebrows shot up. “You're kidding,” he said, pulling out his own phone.

 

The black haired teen saw his friend shake their head in his peripherals.  “I'll send you the link, hold on..”

 

And just then, Keith got a text from Pidge, the quiet _ding_ lost in the other noises and bustle of the bus.  Keith opened the tab, reading through it.

 

Sure enough, another robbery had taken place, just across town.  It was in a small, ungated neighborhood, late at night, when the occupants of the house weren't home.

 

The news article had said that only things like TVs and computers were stolen, along with jewelry, but some of the house had been trashed.  Investigators say it's linked to a few others the next town over.

 

“These fuckers better not try anything on my house, I got top-notch security and too much valuable shit,” Pidge said, scrolling through a few related articles.  Keith hummed in response.

 

“And they haven't caught the guy yet?” he asked.  

 

“Nope,” his friend replied, locking their phone.  “I wonder what they're doing with the stuff though,” they wondered.  Keith looked at them in confusion. “Sell it?”

 

“No no no, like, maybe, but _where_?” they clarified.  “And how? On the black market?  On eBay? Craigslist? Or just keep it to themselves?”

 

“I'm not sure a person needs like three TVs and multiple computers and laptops.  Also, they're taking jewelry and shit, so they’re definitely selling it.”

 

Pidge groaned, rolling their eyes.  “Okay, but that brings us back to _how._  Online or in person?  How do they avoid suspicion?  Where do they keep it meanwhile?”

 

Keith laughed at his friend.  “Okay Pidge, I think I get it, but now it's time to go into thinking mode,” he said, pointing out the window past his friend to the school.  Pidge only groaned in response louder this time.

 

***

 

Keith sat heavily in his seat in History class, glancing nervously at the door every few seconds, anticipating Lance’s arrival before class officially started at the second bell.

 

The teacher was back, sitting at her desk, looking through some papers.  Keith had a feeling it was the substitutes report from the day before.

 

Keith noticed a blur of dark blue out of the corner of his eye and whipped around to see who it was.  As he turned, he realized it was only Rolo.

 

Keith rolled his eyes and looked down at his paper as Rolo passed, avoiding eye contact.  He felt a hard flick on the back of his head and glared harder at his paper.

 

Rolo hadn't been the nicest person to Keith or his group of friends... Ever.  There had been a time in early middle school when he and his friend Nyma had tried to become friendly with Keith and Pidge, but it turned out they only tried to do so to cheat off of them in the final exams.  

 

Pidge hadn't been too keen on the terms of friendship and had exchanged some strong words with the duo.  After that, it seemed like they tormented them whenever they got the chance, and even to the point of bullying.

 

Keith himself didn't care if Rolo and Nyma targeted him, but he did get upset when they did it to Pidge, and Hunk and Lance when they became a group.

 

He had tried to deal with it in a mature way the year before when they were being especially nasty to Hunk after finding out he had two moms.  Keith had told Shiro, and Shiro advised him to go to Mr. Alfor and tell him about it, and so he did. After all of Keith’s friend group told the principal of the treatment, Rolo and Nyma were given in school suspension for three days.

 

After that, it had toned down for the rest of the year, but upon becoming Sophomores the next year, they had started again.  This time, after somehow finding out that Keith had told Mr. Alfor first, they directed most of it to him. As long as his friends weren't affected, he didn't care.

 

In the middle of his mental flashback, Keith hadn't noticed Lance waltzing into the room until he sat down beside Keith, dropping his bag onto the ground and kicking it under the desk.  Keith smiled up at his friend, feeling better in his presence.

 

“Not skipping today I see,” he stated, smirking playfully.  Lance huffed with a smile on his face, cuffing Keith's head.  “Unfortunately not,” he replied, “Mrs. January is in, and she knows my tricks.”

 

“Oh whatever you bum,” Keith, punching Lance in the arm as retaliation before looking down at his notebook.  “It was still pretty dickish of you to flake out on me though,” he murmured.

 

Even though he brushed it off yesterday, it did still really bother Keith.  He couldn't let things go very easily, unfortunately.

 

Lance’s face instantly contorted from playful and happy to concerned.  “Were you alright yesterday?” he asked. “Did you have an attack?”

 

Keith was thankful all of his friends were so supportive and helpful to him with his anxiety.  Pidge had known from a young age that Keith had it and obviously helped him with it. Hunk and Lance were both educated on the topic and were understanding when Pidge explained it to them on Keith's behalf.

 

All of them do everything they can to help him and make him feel comfortable and know how to help him if he has an attack, as all of them have had to calm him down more than once.

 

In truth, Keith had been very close to an anxiety attack before the presentation yesterday, but had used his breathing techniques to calm down during it and excused himself to the bathroom quickly after.  But Keith didn't want to tell Lance that.

 

Lance would probably think Keith was weak or something and judge him, or make fun of him and tell Hunk and Pidge and then they'd all make fun of him behind his back.

 

Keith shook his head quickly.  No, Lance would never do that, and Hunk and Pidge especially wouldn't.  They were his friends and they cared about him.

 

“Keith?” Lance asked, resting a steady hand on his shoulder.  Said teen turned to look at him. He had forgotten to reply, lost in thought.

 

He gave a shaky smile he hoped look somewhat convincing and shook his head.  “I was fine yesterday, no worries Lance,” he said, glancing at the hand on his shoulder.  His skin was on fire underneath it, and his heart skipped stuttered in his chest briefly.

 

Lance gave Keith a look that told him he definitely didn't believe him, but Mrs. January stood up and made her way to the front of the class, closing the door as the bell rung.  The topic was instantly forgotten, but Keith doubted it would stay so. Lance took his hand off of Keith's shoulder, and the boy allowed himself to miss the heat of it.

 

“Alright class,” the teacher began, and the students all quieted down.  Mrs. January smiled at that. “After reading all the reports from the sub yesterday, I am pleased to say that everyone will get a passing grade on the presentation project!”

 

At that, a few students cheered and Mrs. January laughed, waving her hands to quiet them down.  “Now, unfortunately, we are starting a new unit about World War II, so most of today will only be note taking.”

 

The students all groaned in protest, but Mrs. January smiled, picking up a marker to start writing on the board.  “Okay,” she began, “everyone take out your notebooks and the blue book in your desk and turn to page…”

 

Keith never got to hear what she said after that, instead, turning to Lance and having to acknowledge his insistent poking on his forearm.  “What is it?” he whispered, putting down his pen.

 

“Do you know our final grade on the project?” Lance whispered back, leaning forward slightly so that Keith could hear him.  The black haired boy frowned, raising a brow. “Mrs. January literally just said that everyone passed, you know that, right?”

 

Lance sighed, leaning forward again to whisper in Keith's ear.  “I know that Mullet, but what was the grade? My mom is going to kill me if it's anything less than a B, and my grade can't take a 75 right now.”

 

Keith leaned back from Lance, scowling at his friend.  “First of all, you would know how grade-worthy it was if you hadn't skipped, and second of all, Plaxum and I worked our asses off on the presentation trying to make up for the fact that you weren't there.  If you were concerned about your grade you, _again_ , _shouldn't have skipped_.”

 

He didn't wait for Lance to reply, instead simply turning back to the front of the class.

 

Okay, Keith was obviously bothered by Lance skipping the day before, but the fact that he would be so concerned about his grade and still skip class?  He doesn't even really care, and now he was just relighting the flame of agitation on Keith about the whole situation.

 

If Lance wanted to get a good grade, he should have come to class and done the presentation with them instead of leaving Keith and Plaxum struggling with his parts.  And then he has the nerve to ask about the grade the next day, saying he can't take a C? Unbelievable.

 

After about three minutes, Lance was poking at Keith's arm again.

 

After one minute, Keith turned to him.

 

But before Keith had the chance to tell him to fuck off, Lance said, “Let me make it up to you.”

 

The shorter of the two boys startled, leaning back in his seat.  “What?” he managed to choke out, cursing his pale face for what he knew was an obvious blush.

 

But even if Keith did look like pink cotton candy, Lance didn't mention it.  “Let me make it up to you,” he said again, more firmly.

 

Keith furrowed his brows, shaking his head, but still replied with a weak, “Okay?”  Lance made a fist in his apparent victory before turning back to Keith.

 

“Hows about an ice cream at lunch?” he asked.  Keith raised an eyebrow. “Lactose intolerant,” he replied.  Lance emitted a quiet, “oh right,” turning forward to think.

 

Keith was fine.  Listen, he was fine, okay?  He was upset Lance skipped, but he could never stay mad at his friend and long-time crush.  And now said crush was offering to buy him ice-cream and--

 

“Fro-yo!”  Lance exclaimed suddenly, turning to Keith.  A few students near them turned to look but turned back to the teacher after a scoff.

 

\--And fro-yo.

 

“Lance,” Keith began in a much quieter voice than his friend, “I'm still lactose intolerant.  Frozen yogurt is still yogurt, and yogurt is milk.”

 

Lance stared at Keith for a moment longer and then slumped forward, picking up his pencil and writing down the first few notes in his open notebook.  Keith tried to do the same, but his mind wasn't connecting with his ears for some reason.

 

Because it wasn't like Lance was asking him on a date indirectly.  Because he would never. Lance, however bisexual, didn't like Keith and wasn't asking him out on a date to a fro-yo place because he was apologizing for skipping out on presentation day.  That's all it was. It wasn't like Lance was asking him out to coffee some Saturday afternoon…

 

“Coffee doesn't have to have milk in it, does it?” Lance asked from beside him, murmuring the question to himself, and Keith had to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.  Okay, so maybe it _was_ coffee on some Saturday afternoon, it still wasn't a date!

 

“Coffee works,” Keith said in reply, only realizing how weird it was after it came out since Lance hadn't actually asked him, but he kept his eyes trained on the paper below him, writing nonsensical notes as his friend stared holes into the right side of his head.

 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance nod his head.  Turning to him, his breath hitched at the others face.

 

Lance smiled big and bright at Keith, his eyes small oceans with waves of happiness flowing through them.  Keith knew he was staring, but he really didn't care. His face was on fire and his heart beat fast, but he couldn't see anything except for Lance and his smile and his eyes and--

 

“Do you know the answer, Kogane?” Mrs. January asked.  Keith whipped his head towards her, seeing all the students around him stare.  “Uh..” he froze, heart racing for a different reason now.

 

All the students’ attention was suddenly directed to Keith as Mrs. January had asked him the question and he failed to answer.  If they weren't looking at first, their heads turned now to see his embarrassment.

 

Of course, he would be asked a question when he wasn't paying any attention, and when he was most vulnerable and distracted, and when his crush was sitting right next to him, having a front row seat to his negligibility.

 

“Six years and one day, Mrs. January,” a voice spoke from the other side of the class.  All at once, like the turning of wind, heads pivoted to its source. Keith slumped in relief, resting his head on the desk.  He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

 

A hand rested on Keith's back, rubbing soothing circles in a pattern familiar to one person in particular.  The hand was warm and comforting and helped the panicked teen regain his composure.

 

Lance didn't say anything until Keith lifted his head with a large sigh, and withdrew his hand as well.  Once again, Keith missed its company.

 

Despite everything, Keith turned to Lance to thank him.  He only shook his head with a smile in reply, waving his hand.  “Anytime my guy,” he said. “But I think we should seriously start paying attention now.  Mrs. January is on to us, and I can't pass this class with another teacher hating me.”

 

Keith chuckled good-naturedly, picking up his pencil and facing the board at the front of the class.  He was surprised at the amount of writing already on it and started in bullet points.

 

“We’ll work out the coffee thing after class, okay?” he heard Lance whisper to him.  Keith felt his face redden, and nodded in reply, not turning to his friend.

 

***

 

They didn't actually get to set the date for the coffee.  Keith wasn't sure whether he should be glad or disappointed.

 

He settled on a mixture of both.

 

***

 

At lunch, Keith stares down at the spaghetti instead of actually eating it.  Beside him, Pidge is in a deep debate with Hunk about how the serial robbers profit from the break-ins and everything they steal.  Across from him, Lance eats in a very rare silence, listening intently on the debate, every so often pointing something out or making a comment.

 

On normal days, Keith would ask Lance if something was wrong, but Lance had already told all of them what was wrong.

 

“If I fail this test,” he had said, picking at his lunch with his fork, “I'll be taken out of Thespians Society and Mama will take me out of the theater program altogether.”

 

Thespians Society was a club of students who were in the theater program at the school.  The students in the club were students who were the most experienced, having done the middle school program and at least five separate shows, musicals or otherwise, and done all the jobs.

 

But it's not just that easy to get in.  All the students in the High School theater program had to vote anonymously on who they thought deserved to be in the program.

 

Above everything else, to stay in the Thespians Society, you had to be passing all of your classes.  The theater teacher, Mrs. Lynn, stressed that theater was an extracurricular class and a privilege, not something just for fun.

 

Mama McClain was also very strict on Lance’s grade and told him if he couldn't pass all his classes, then he would be pulled from the entire theater class since after school rehearsal time could be used to study and do make-up work.

 

“And Mr. Zarkon refuses to give me any extra credit!” he had said.  Hunk and Pidge ate their lunch, nodding every so often, obviously bored of hearing this every day, but Keith listened.  After all, he was Lance’s tutor now, so this concerned him now. He might as well know what Lance was having problems with if he was to help him.

 

(That was implying Keith didn't already know the exact problems Lance was having, which he did, but whatever.  Paying attention doesn't hurt.)

 

“I'm barely passing now, so bombing this test will destroy me,” he finished, doing a small pout that Keith couldn't help but smile at.

 

“You're coming over to study with me tomorrow Lance,” he reassured, “and I'll be damned if you fail on my watch now.”

 

That seemed to make him smile a little, and Keith preened quietly to himself.

 

Maybe the study session would go over smoothly after all.

 

***

 

_Tuesday, November 20_

 

_Today was moderate.  Shiro had to go to work early because of some emergency or another, but I didn't mind all that much.  Dad left some waffles on a napkin so I heated them up and ate those, and I had some time to relax before I went to the bus stop._

 

_On the bus, Pidge told me about another robbery that happened, on the other side of town.  They're getting kinda worryingly close but I don't think another one will happen for at least a month.  That's the way the chain of robberies has been going so far._

 

_Ms. Richardson was being especially bitchy in class today.  She sent out three students because they asked each other for help on the work she had failed to explain fully.  I think they got detention._

 

_I felt bad for the students but I didn't say anything.  Lord knows mom would have my head if I got another detention from that bitch._

 

_Lance is worried about the physics test that coming up in Mr. Zarkons class.  Mr. Zarkon is still refusing to give Lance any extra credit to bring his grade up.  I wonder if I could submit an official complaint?_

 

_And that reminds me!  Lance was in class in History today, thank god, and we were talking.  Lance seemed really concerned about the grade we got on the project and asked me about it and it made me upset, so I had snapped at him, but Lance said that he would make it up to me._

 

_At first, he offered ice cream and then frozen yogurt, but we ruled those out since I'm lactose intolerant, and I think we decided on coffee?  I say I think because Mrs. January called on me before we could set a date (date?!?) and then we actually started taking notes._

 

I'm disappointed we didn't talk about it more but relieved at the same time.  I'm not sure I could have handled talking about getting coffee with Lance infront of Lance. _I would have combusted or something, I'm sure._

 

_And I shouldn't even be freaking out anyway!  It isn't a date or anything, so I should stop thinking it is, but what else am I supposed to do?  Lance basically asked me out to coffee and now not only will I be studying one on one with my crush, but I'll also be getting coffee one on one with him too._

 

_I mean, I think it's one on one?  He said it was an apology for skipping on the project yesterday, so I'm not sure if he would invite anyone else?  Unless he would invite Plaxum but that would just get messy I think..._

 

_Either way, Lance is coming over tomorrow after school and I am dying inside and I finished cleaning the house so if Shiro spills another bowl of chips I'm going to castrate him._

 

_All in all, today was a good day I guess and I am both excited and nervous for tomorrow._

 

***

 

Lance wrapped himself tighter in his jacket, hiking his backpack higher on his shoulder, trying to shield himself from the chilly air.

 

He sighed, his breath becoming just barely visible in front of him.  It reminded him of the firey breath of a dragon, and the thought made him smile.

 

At a corner, he stopped and looked at the sign high above him, searching for Jackson Street, the street Keith Kogane and the rest of his family lived.

 

Lance walked down the street, pulling out his phone to text his friend that he was almost there.  As he unlocked it, he got a glimpse at the time. 2:46 pm. Not too bad.

 

He types up a quick message and sends it off, eager to get his hand back in his pocket.  He saw the house ahead of him and picked up the pace, his heart beating for a whole different reason than exertion.

 

Lance would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous for this afternoon, for multiple reasons.  Number one would be that he didn't want to make Keith think he was an idiot.

 

Keith Kogane was a prime example of an angsty, moody character and possible protagonist if their lives were part of some elaborate anime.  He wore dark clothes and had an attitude and avoided people at what seemed like all costs and only had Pidge as a friend before he met Lance and Hunk at the beginning of Freshman year.

 

But underneath all that, Keith had his reasons for everything about him.  He had an attitude because he wasn't used to talking to people because he avoided them, and he avoided them because of his social anxiety.  He didn't exactly have a reason for wearing the dark clothes, but Lance likes to think it's so he can complete the whole “Bad Boy” persona, even if he's completely the opposite.

 

What Lance was trying to get at was, Keith was his friend and he didn't want his friend to see him as stupid or incompetent in any way.  Maybe this study session was a bad idea…

 

But then again, he had already sent the text telling Keith he was almost at his house, so there was no turning back now.

 

He felt a tiny vibration from his pocket and pulled his phone out, pressing the home screen to see his notifications.

 

At the time, which was now 2:51 pm, was the name “Crush?¿” and under that were the words “Doors unlocked, let yourself in”.

 

So that was the second thing.

 

So… yeah.  For all the talk of Keith being an amazing friend, Lance wasn't actually sure where the teen stood in his book.

 

Of course, Lance had an undeniable attraction to him.  How could he not? Keith had flawless pale skin, looking soft to the touch, with softer black hair that framed his face in a style that just worked somehow, and he had the most beautiful eyes that displayed his Korean ethnicity beautifully, with pools of dark blue that looked almost purple and reminded Lance of space.  He was undeniably beautiful.

 

But the question wasn't if Lance was _attracted_ to Keith, it was if he had a _crush_ on Keith.  If he _like liked_ Keith, wanted to _date_ Keith, consider _snuggling_ and _cuddling_ close to Keith, possibly spending the rest of his _life_ with Keith.

 

Walking down the street in the cold, with his face warm from his blush, all those things didn't seem too bad.

 

Lance stepped up the front porch, now standing in front of Keith's houses’ door.  He was about to knock when he remembered the text telling him to let himself in. Despite his cold toes and the sharp wind outside, he stood and thought for a bit longer.

 

Whatever Keith was, friend or more than that, he did promise to help Lance, and that was what friends did.  Sure, it would be the first time it was only Lance and Keith, but that didn't mean it had to go horribly. Maybe they would have a good time, and Keith would be helpful and Lance wouldn't fail his upcoming test.  Maybe he would finally find out where exactly to file Keith away in his mind.

 

Steeling himself with a breath that hurt to breathe, Lance opened the door and stepped inside, closing it quickly behind him.  The heat from the house washed over Lance like a wave, and the teen relished in it for a moment before announcing his presence.

 

“Yo, Keith!” he shouted, walking forward in the short hallway, passing the living room and turning to the staircase, “I have arrived!”

 

Lance had been to Keith's house before, but usually, it was only to pick him up to go hang out somewhere else, and Pidge, Hunk, or the both of them were with him.  It was different now, and Lance’s nervous energy only increased.

 

There was a thump as if someone fell, and then footsteps and a door opening.  More footsteps, and Keith's head appeared at the top of the staircase, and the rest of him shortly after.

 

Lance took a quick note of the fact that he had changed out of the clothes he had worn to school.  

 

Instead of the baggy Led Zeppelin tee shirt and dark blue ripped jeans, he wore a tight-fitting grey shirt with the Tardis from _Doctor Who_ on it and black skinny jeans.  On top of his mop of black hair was a burgundy beanie that looked like it was crocheted with complex stitches that made it more fashionable.

 

Lance felt underdressed, knowing he was still wearing his pastel blue button-up and jeans under his jacket and scarf.

 

Keith cleared his throat suddenly, glancing away.  “Come upstairs, we’re studying in my room,” he said, turning back around.  Lance scrambled up the stairs to catch up with him.

 

Keith watched in amusement as the taller teen tripped on the last stair up, nearly falling forward before catching himself.  Lance felt his face redden slightly and walked up to Keith, who was standing next to a door which presumably leads into his room.

 

Keith opened the door and walked inside, Lance following while looking around to observe Keith's living space.  Directly to Lance’s right was the foot of Keith's bed, covered in a red quilt with accents of planets and stars in a slightly darker red that Lance strained to see.

 

Next to his bed was a nightstand with a single drawer.  The nightstand was home to a small reading lamp, an alarm clock, Keith's phone, and a bottle of water that was half empty.  Beside the nightstand was a small plastic garbage can that held multiple empty water bottles, some crumpled pieces of paper, pencil shavings, and a pizza crust.

 

Just beyond the small trash can was a sliding door to the closet which had a poster of some constellations that were labeled.  At the top of the poster in big letters read “THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE”.

 

In the far right corner was a large mirror and in front of the far back wall next to it was a dressing table that had a few picture frames and accessories on it, things like bracelets, chokers, and rings.  On the ground in front of the dressing table was a dollar store bucket that was vomiting beanies of different shapes and styles.

 

Sharing the farthest wall with the dressing table was a desk large enough for an old looking laptop and a sketchpad with a few pencils and erasers scattered across the surface.  The desk itself also had drawers, large ones that made up the entire right supports. A red desk chair was neatly tucked under it. On the far back wall were also two large windows with curtains pulled back to let in the natural light that wouldn't last much longer in the winter.

 

The left wall was home to a large bookshelf that reached the ceiling.  Every inch of it was home to a book, some even having to be laid on top of others to get them all to fit.

 

The rest of the left wall were shelves of knick-knacks and trinkets ranging from a miniature grandfather clock, a _Doctor Who_ themed mini fridge, jars of sand and dirt, and a few well-kept knives.

 

Throughout the entire room were posters and pictures of space, motorcycles, a map with some pins in it, and a poster of the school play Lance had been in the year before, Beauty and The Beast.

 

The poster was simple, a royal blue making the base color and gold trim surrounding the sides, a rose laying down at the very top with petals drifting down, and a silhouette of Belle and the Beast in the foreground, with the other characters silhouetted behind them.  The title of the play, along with the words “an Altea High School production” was what made up the center, popping brightly in yellow and looking like gold. At the very top in silver Sharpy was Lance’s autograph.

 

The Cuban teen smiled, walking over to the posture from where it was hung, just above Keith's dressing table.  He admired it and his signature, remembering the fun he had in the production and playing Lumière. He also remembered Keith and the rest of his friends coming up to him after opening night with posters they had bought from the stand outside the doors, asking for his autograph.  He blushed slightly, seeing that Keith had not only kept his but had hung it up. Pidge and Hunk still had theirs, but it was tucked away in the closet or in the attic to make room for new memories.

 

“A can't believe you actually kept this,” Lance voiced, reaching out and touching the poster and turning back to his friend.  Keith stood in the center of his room, arms hanging beside him as he looked around his own room self consciously. At Lance’s voice, he turned to his friend.  Lance watched the pink creep into the others face as he saw Lance at the poster.

 

“I mean, of course I did,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.  “You did really well, and I enjoyed the show.”

 

Lance grinned big and wide, and he felt his heart pick up speed just a bit.  Keith stared at him for a while before awkwardly clearing his throat again and making his way to his closet.

 

“Go ahead and sit down anywhere,” he said, opening the door and pulling out his backpack, a worn black Jansport bag decorated with pins from different TV shows like more _Doctor Who, Stranger Things, The Walking Dead, Sherlock, Gravity Falls_ , and the entire groups favorite, _Voltron_.  There was also a small pride pin amidst the rest, which Keith had put on after Pidge got it for him for his birthday.  Lance had recently noticed that he would take it off during school hours and made another note to himself to ask about that.

 

Lance decided to sit on the ground in front of the dressing table where he had been standing, watching as Keith dug through his bag for his own notes.  After finding them, he tossed them in front of Lance and made his way to his desk. There, he grabbed a pencil and pen, and opened the bottom drawer in the desk, grabbing an unopened stack of white paper and ripping the top open.  Keith then took out a few sheets, put the paper back in the drawer, and shut it firmly.

 

From there, Keith walked dutifully in front of Lance, sitting down in front of him with a huff.  “Okay!” he said, setting down the writing utensils and paper. He looked up at Lance. “Lets fuckin’ study.”

 

***

 

Lance stretched out across Keith's floor, groaning loudly and flailing his arms around to shuffle the sheets of scrap paper.  Keith rolled his eyes and hit Lance’s leg with his notebook. “C’mon,” he said sternly, not for the first time. “Pay attention.”

 

Lance turned his face to his friend, pouting.  “I've been paying attention for nearly two hours Keith!” he whined.  Keith hit his leg again, but he continued. “I am worked to the bone and starved!  I require fuel if I am to continue!”

 

Keith huffed again but set his notebook down.  Lance smiled with glee, sitting up. “Does this mean food?” he asked excitedly.  Keith stood up, gathering his pencils, promptly ignoring Lance for the time being.

 

“Are you gonna make grilled cheese?  Or your macaroni? Or that burrito wrap from that one time?” Lance carried on nonetheless, tapping his chin as he thought of all the delicious foods Keith had cooked for him.

 

“Maybe,” the black haired teen said in reply, picking up his notebook.  “But all that is gonna take a while to prepare.”

 

“I'll clean up for you!” Lance offered.  Keith raised a brow at him, knowing full well that Lance didn't even clean up his own room at home.  The taller boy laughed, standing up as well.

 

“Seriously!” he said, holding out his arms in a gesture.  “It's the least I can do. First, you save my ass by tutoring me and gifting me your knowledge, and then make that bomb grilled cheese that you do so specially and amazingly?  I have to thank you somehow!”

 

Keith looked around his room, contemplating.  His room wasn't that messy, but he was pretty tired of cleaning.  He had cleaned all day yesterday and made a few finishing touches before Lance arrived, and he'd be damned if he used another Clorox wipe or picked up another piece of trash today.

 

And his room wasn't too messy anyway.  There was a shit ton of used scrap paper on the ground, from using it to show work on the equations and demonstrate how the formulas worked and how to dissect word problems for the variables, etc., and then maybe halfway through Lance had taken a mental break and drawn dicks and other doodles on the paper.

 

Also during the short-lived mental break, Lance had wandered around and picked a few books off of his bookshelf and dramatically read the summaries.  He also made up a few of the books he had already read.

 

In the end, he had been making Keith laugh so much that Shiro had to poke his head in and tell them to get back to it, and so they both did.  Until now obviously, but Keith was also very tired of studying and wanted to eat as much as Lance did.

 

“Fine,” he said eventually, turning back to Lance.  “I'll go downstairs and make something, and you have to clean up, got it?”

 

Lance smiled and nodded innocently, folding his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his feet, reminiscent of a small child.  Keith eyed him a moment before reaching up quickly and flicking his forehead. Lance squawked in response, gently rubbing his assaulted forehead.

 

“What are you gonna make?” Lance asked, taking a few steps after Keith as he made his way out the door.  Keith paused a moment before shrugging. He half turned to Lance eyeing him, before smirking. “Whatever I feel for I guess,” he said before dipping out of view.  Lance heard his footsteps fade down the stairs and his faint greeting to his father and Shiro below.

 

Sighing, Lance turned back to the room, eyeing the ground and all the things he would have to pick up.  The true manner of what he had promised setting in on him, he sighed, slumping his shoulders and head forward.

 

After a moment of wallowing, he actually got to work.  He gathered up the books he had taken from the shelves, stacking them in his arms and scrutinizing the shelves, looking for the exact place he got each book.  Eventually, he gave up, reasoning that Keith didn't actually care if he would let Lance put everything back.

 

After that, he picked up his notebook and his study guild, covered in notes from Keith and small dicks from him, and placed them both inside his backpack.  Glancing around, he also picked up Keith's book and set it on top of his desk.

 

Next, he picked up the old black bookbag and put it on the red desk chair and got to work sorting through trash paper and useful notepaper.  Most of it was good noted and tips Keith wrote down for him, but some were still drawing of dicks of various shapes and sized, and that's not something he wanted his siblings to get a hold of.

 

Putting the dick art in the small trash can and the notes in his bag next to his notebook, Lance picked up the mostly untouched and more wrinkled pieces of unused paper Lance had rolled in near the end of the study session.

 

He looked down at the paper in his hands.  It was perfectly good paper, and he didn't think Keith would want to waste it.  Thusly, he glanced around, crunching his brain to remember where Keith had gotten the paper from.

 

His eyes landed on the desk and drifted down to the bottom drawer.  That's right! Keith had a stack of white paper in there. Patting himself on the back, Lance kneeled before the drawer and pulled it open.

 

Lance pulled out the stack of white paper in the drawer, doing his best to fit in the slightly damaged paper back in with minimal disorganization with a 90% success rate.  He was about to put the stack of the paper back in then something caught his eye.

 

In the drawer, hidden under the printer paper, was an old and worn red binder that was riddled with doodles and dirt.  Lance set the copy paper on the ground and glanced towards the door. He waited a moment before turning back to the binder.

 

Okay, sure, it really wasn't Lances place to go snooping around in Keith stuff when he was downstairs because doing such a thing was beyond disrespectful, and Lance was raised better than that!

 

At the same time, however, Lance was here, right now, In Keith's room while he was downstairs, practically guaranteed not to be interrupted anytime soon, and what was he supposed to do anyway?   _Not_ snoop in his maybe-crushes room?  Puh-lease.

 

Lance reached into the drawer and pulled out the binder, disappointed to find it surprisingly light and empty.  With a huff of disappointment, Lance looked over the binder.

 

It really was old.  The sides were ripping and the once bright red color was now faded, and there were writing and doodles all over it.  Curiously, Lance opened the binder to look at the inside.

 

He was greeted with an onslaught of chicken-scratch writing, looking to be written by a seven-year-old.  With some difficulty, he read it.

 

_Keith Ko Gane_

_Mrs wall, first grade_

_C bilding class room 8 - A_

 

Lance nearly cooed out loud, imagining a tiny and pudgy Keith writing down the information in class along with other students.  Glancing at the rest of the words flooding the page, he attempted to read that too.

 

~~_No girls alowed to reed Keiths binder!!_ ~~

 

_What abaut me?_

 

_No girls exsept katie alowed to reed Keiths binder!!_

 

_Thats better :)_

 

Lance was practically crying, imagining now a tiny Keith and Pidge over at one of their houses in a sleepover, decorating Keith's school binder and possibly Pidge’s as well.

 

The rest of the writing in the binder was similar, and when Lance looked into the drawer again, he found two more in similar condition, one from third grade and one from forth, the second-grade binder unfortunately missing.

 

Sighing, Lance gathered the binders and stacked them in the order he found them, getting ready to place them back into the drawer when something else caught his eye.

 

At the very bottom of the drawer buried deep under the paper and binders, was a large, three subject notebook that looked well maintained.  Curious, Lance picked it up and looked at it.

 

It seemed as if some of the pages of the notebook was yet to be written in.  Smiling, Lance opened to the first page.

 

Written on the back of the cover in large black letters were the words “FUCK OFF, PRIVATE, PROPERTY OF KEITH KOGANE”.  The big bold letters were much more reminiscent of a more recent Keith rather than an elementary school Keith. Tilting his head, Lance read the first page.

 

_If you're reading this, stop.  Put this back where you found it and say nothing._

 

 _Suspicious_ , Lance thought and continued reading.

 

_If this is Shiro, then har har.  You found it. Now tell me you did so I can hide this somewhere else.  If you're not Shiro, then get out of my house you fuck face._

 

Okay, rude, but what was this?  Lance closed the book and inspected the cover and back page again.  There was no outward writing to indicate what it was, and Lance’s interest was piqued.

 

However, before Lance could inspect the thing more, a beep was heard from downstairs which Lance recognized to be the oven.   _Dinners ready_ , Lance’s mind registered, and he dropped the book.

 

Scrambling to his feet, Lance put the binders back in the drawer and dropped the printer paper in after it.  When he heard footsteps starting at the bottom of the staircase, his heartbeat sped up in panic.

 

Lance picked up the journal, considering it for a second.  He was seriously curious as to the contents of the journal, and the note at the beginning meant to ward people off only made him want to read it more.

 

The footsteps grew closer, at least halfway up the stairs now, and Lance made his decision.

 

He shut the desk drawer swiftly with his foot and quickly made his way to his backpack, placing the journal inside with the rest of his things and zipping it up quickly.

 

Just as he stood up and turned to face the door, Keith's face appeared.  Both teens startled at the sudden eye contact, but Keith quickly regained composure.

 

“Dinners ready,” he stated, glancing around the room and nodding with approvement seeing the clean state of it.  Lance followed his gaze, waiting for him to make some comment about him knowing that Lance had taken something. He was suddenly regretting his choice.

 

However, the accusation never came, and Keith only smiled at him before nodding downstairs.  “You coming?” he asked. Lance hesitated a moment before nodding.

 

“What d’you make?” he asked casually, following Keith downstairs.  “Mac n’ cheese,” the other replied. “I was feelin’ lazy.”

 

Lance snickered and took the bowl Keith handed to him, serving himself a large heap of mac n’ cheese before sitting down at the table.  Keith soon joined him, setting down his own bowl with two glasses of water, one for himself and Lance, and a pill.

 

Lance raised an eyebrow at the pill when Keith sat down, and Keith glanced at it before realizing his friend's confusion.  “It's for the lactose intolerance thing,” he explained. “It helps me not shit myself to death.”

 

“Language,” Keith's father said from the living room just passed the wall.  Lance chuckled and Keith punched him.

 

He took the pill with a gulp of water and started on his dinner.  He and Lance ate in relative silence, giving their brains a well-deserved rest after the two-hour study session.  Lance tried to forget about the book in his backpack, or at least think of a way to get it back to the desk drawer without Keith noticing.  Guilt made him shiver and Keith looked at him funny, but Lance just smiled at him and Keith shrugged, directing his attention back to his meal.

 

***

 

In the end, Keith's dad dropped Lance home at seven thirty, with Lance still in possession of the book.  Lance felt it burn from its place in his backpack as he made his way to his front door, keys in hand, waving to Keith and his dad.

 

He's sure they didn't notice the look of guilt on his face in the dark as they drove off, and Lance walked into his home promising himself he would not open the book, not even take it out to look at it.  It was disrespectful and would be betraying Keith's trust in him.

 

***

 

Lance lasted an hour and a half.

 

***

 

To be fair, it was a pretty long time, okay?  Lance definitely lasted longer than he thought he would.

 

But, in the end, he sat on his bed with the notebook in hand, staring daggers at it as if it had personally offended him and his family.

 

Because he wanted to read it.  He really did. He really, _really_ did.  But it was Keith's private possession.  It said so inside the front cover. _FUCK OFF, PRIVATE, PROPERTY OF KEITH KOGANE._  Lance would know, he was looking at it right now.

 

Wait--

 

Lance yelped and dropped the book onto his bed, pushing it away with his feet.  Damn! He thought he was having such good self-control, but then he just went and picked it up.

 

But, it's not like he was actually reading it, right?

 

I mean, Lance was only reading the cover, the first page.  Only to make sure he didn't dream it up earlier in some weird brain overstimulation from studying too hard.

 

But he had just opened it and confirmed that that's exactly what the inside of the book had said.  No doubt about it. It was private, and it belonged to Keith Kogane.

 

Lance took a deep breath, gathering the book in his hands and standing.  He was better than this. He was well above invading his friend and maybe-possibly-crushes dairy.  He would put it in his backpack and return it the next day, somehow. Maybe he could convince Keith to let him over to study tonight too.

 

…

 

Was it a diary even?  Lance paused his walking, looking down at the book in his hands again.

 

Dammit, now he was curious.

 

But Keith wouldn't actually have a diary, would he?  

 

Not that he can't or anything.  Don't get Lance wrong, he's all for breaking gender normalities and such, but… Keith doesn't really seem like the type to have a _diary._

 

Keith, for the most part, was chill.  He didn't talk much, but he was smart, and he had friends.  On the outside, he seemed stoic and distant and maybe kinda broody, but he was also lively and colorful and just had different ways of expressing himself.

 

But it just seemed so out of character for him to write down his feelings and whatever in a diary or something.

 

What did people even write in diaries anyway?  Lance thought back to every teen movie he's ever seen.

 

Usually, for plot devices, the main character would write down about school drama, which could include anything from arch-nemeses to crushes.

 

Crushes…

 

 _No_ , his brain supplied instantly, but his body had already turned around and jumped down on the bed.  If Keith liked anyone (not that Lance cared or anything; it wasn't even a crush, just an _infatuation_!), then he would have written in his diary, if it even was that.

 

Deciding to go with the flow before he changed his mind or regretted his actions, Lance flipped to the first page that was written on that wasn't the cover of the welcoming message in the front.  At the top of the page was a date for nearly a seven months ago.

 

Lance began reading.

 

_Sunday, April 3rd_

 

_I hate Shiro and this dumb idea._

 

 _Stellar opening_ , Lance had thought before continuing.

 

_This is so fucking girly.  Come on, a “feelings journal”?  Who needs one of those! It's dumb and childish._

 

Oh.  So, that explained what it was then.  A feelings journal.

 

_This is one reason why I hate Mr. Morice.  I've been avoiding the idea for a while now but I guess Mr. Morice brought up the idea to Shiro and he wouldn't stop bugging me about it until I agreed to have one, and thus, here we are._

 

Well, that explains… a few things.  

 

The rest of the page was void of any other words, but Lance could tell the other side was written on, so he flipped the page and continued reading.

 

_Monday, April 4th_

 

_Fuck you, Shiro, this is my “journal”, I'll write whatever the fuck I want to in here._

 

 _Somehow, it's better than the last,_ Lance smiled to himself.

 

_You said you weren't going to snoop through my things either.  What happened to that? I'm betrayed by my own brother._

 

_But, since you INSIST I not only write down events but also my “feelings”, whatever those are, I guess I'll have to do that so you leave me alone._

 

_So Shiro went through my notebook even though he promised he wouldn't and now I'm angry at him._

 

_The end._

 

Lance blinked down at the page, holding back laughter.  He could practically hear Keith's tone while reading it.  

 

The page to the right of that one, Lance noticed, was more fully written in than the last.  Glancing up at his clock to check the time, Lance delved in.

 

_Tuesday, April 5th_

 

_Pidge is a godsend, I think.  I don't tell them nearly enough for how much shit I probably put them through, but they're such a good friend._

 

_I'm saying so because I had a random fucking panic attack on the school field trip today.  I don't even fucking know why! But I guess that's panic attacks for you._

 

_After I realized what was happening, I started to silently freak out until I excused myself to the bathroom to calm down.  I went through all my normal breathing exercises but they weren't working?_

 

_And it was a bad one too.  I was having the panic attack, scared out of my mind that 1, someone would walk in and find a teenage boy crying in a public bathroom and 2, scared that I would miss important information from the field trip since we’re going to write an essay on it sometime in the future._

 

_It was getting so bad that I felt like I couldn't fucking breathe, and then I started panicking more thinking I was going to die, and then it just got worse and so I started panicking MORE, repeat cycle._

 

_Somehow, Pidge found out I was in the bathroom and came in to help me.  They found me crying on the ground barely fucking breathing and just sat down next to me as if that was normal._

 

_After that, I started to calm down some, but it took a while.  By the time we left the bathroom the buses were ready to leave.  Pidge was pretty upset they didn't see all of the museum (we were at a museum of technological advancements throughout the year btw), but they said it was worth missing if it helped me.  I still feel pretty bad, and Pidge also got detention because “girls aren't allowed in the boy bathroom” or whatever the fuck. Apparently, the museums all for technological advancements, but not for social advancements or gender acceptance._

 

_Pidge didn't care that much about that though.  They sat with me on the bus all the way back to the school and we listened to their playlist._

 

_I'm just thanking god that I share that science class with Pidge, otherwise, I bet I'd have missed the bus and just gotten more panicky._

 

_Later that day I left class without a pass and got detention, so at least I'll be able to keep Pidge company tomorrow._

 

_But seriously, Pidge is an amazing friend.  I should get them a present or something._

 

_(was this enough feelings for you, Shiro?)_

 

Lance sat in almost awe after reading the entry.  That was… sweet. Unlike the first two pages, this didn't sound like Keith at all.  Well, the panic attacks did, but talking so positively and thankful about one of his friends, considering buying them a present..?

 

Maybe.. There was a lot more to Keith that Lance had realized on the surface.  They had been friends since the beginning of the year, but it's not like they had the best start, or knew much about each other anyway.

 

A corner of Lance’s mind said it was a good thing he took this book, but he pushed it down quickly.  No! This was still an invasion of privacy, and Lance had read enough of the journal to answer most of his questions.

 

Diary?  No, but similar.

 

Why?  Mr. Morice, Keith's old therapist, recommended it to Shiro.

 

Since when?  April 3rd apparently.

 

But then there were more questions, along with the rest of his old ones.  Did Keith write about his crushes? Did he even have any? What was Keith's life like now?  This was for therapy right? How was that going for Keith? He stopped going to therapy, so why did he continue the journal?  Was it really that helpful? Was he better or worse than when he started this journal?

 

A realization suddenly came to Lance.  This was Keith's _feelings journal_.  For _therapy_.  And Lance had it with _him._

 

_Keith didn't have it._

 

Meaning, when Keith went to retrieve the journal to write in it, he would find it missing and immediately suspect Lance of stealing it because obviously it was _him_.

 

Lance was over at his house today, left alone cleaning his room.  Keith would suspect Lance of taking it and Lance wouldn't even be able to say anything because he _did_.

 

Lance closed the journal and got up from his bed, actually committing to putting the notebook in his backpack this time.  He took out his phone, quickly texting Keith.

 

**To: Crush?¿**

can i come ovr 2morrow to study again?

 

**From: Crush?¿**

Yeah, ofc.  Just tell me what time

 

**To: Crush?¿**

ty!!!!!!!!!!

 

Good, okay, this is good.  This was great. Lance would arrive the next day, do the whole thing over again, maybe purposely make a mess so he could clean up, return the journal, hope Keith didn't need it the previous night, and everything would be back to normal.  It would be good. This was fine.

 

Lance sighed as he zipped his bag closed.  He considered going downstairs for something to eat, but decided against it, still full of Keith's delicious mac n’ cheese.  Instead, he brushed his teeth like the good child he was and hopped into bed, pulling out his phone and delved into Instagram, getting lost stalking models’ pages and liking all of his friends’ new pictured.  He made sure to plug his phone in before drifting off to sleep.

 

***

 

Keith woke with a start Thursday morning, wondering what time it was since he didn't hear his alarm going off.

 

Groggily, he reached out and grabbed his phone from where it was charging on his bedside table.  He pressed the home button and glared at the screen lit up, checking the time.

 

6:49 am.

 

Well, that couldn't be right.  That would mean Keith had ten minutes to get ready, eat, and make his way to the bus stop.  Keith blinked and looked again.

 

6:50 am.

 

Ah.

 

Keith threw his phone on his bedside table, awake instantly as he began scrambling around for clothes.  He cursed himself for forgetting to set his alarm the night before as he sniffed shirts he found in his drawer.

 

After finding an acceptable shirt with the black jeans he wore the night before when Lance was over studying, he grabbed his phone and backpack, checking the time again.

 

6:53 am.

 

There was no way in hell Keith would be able to make breakfast, so he shoved his phone into his jean pockets and scrambled to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth with minimal effort.  He grabbed his deodorant bar, swiping under his arms quickly, and left the bathroom, still holding it. He shoved it into his bag, knowing he’d have to put it on more adequately when he got on the bus.

 

Stuffing his feet into the nearest pair of matching shoes, Keith swiped up his bag and ran down the stairs, tossing the deodorant in and grabbing his phone instead.

 

He checked the time again as he made his way to the door.

 

6:58 am.

 

He was on thin fucking ice now.

 

Making a run towards the door and unlocking it with unnecessary vigor, he ran out and slammed it shut behind him, realizing halfway to the bus stop that he didn't lock the door.

 

He shook his head, picking up his speed as he heard the bus approaching.  It wouldn't matter anyway. His father was home from work early today anyway since he would be taking his mother out on a date or something.  Keith didn't know the specifics, but he did know it would be fine.

 

He managed to arrive at the bus stop just as the bus was pulling up, and he trudged his way and plopped down next to Pidge, still catching his breath.  He made it onto the bus. He was fine. Everything would be fine.

 

Oh how unfortunately wrong he was.

 

***

 

It was a normal day, if not a bit uncomfortable because of how hungry he was.  Luckily, Pidge was generous enough to give him a granola bar on the bus, so it wasn't that bad, but he was still irritable.  He was in his history class, about to ask Lance what time he would be over when the front office dinged in on the speaker.

 

“Mrs. January?” the voice asked, static almost making the message gibberish.  “Yes?” the teacher answered when the class quieted down. “Could you send Keith Ko… Ko-gayne to the front desk for checkout?  His parents are here for him.”

 

“Not a problem, he's on his way,” Mrs. January answered, looking at him.  The speaker beeped again, signaling the woman had cut off the connection, and Keith quietly packed away his notebook.

 

Lance tilted his head at him as he opened the door, and he answered with a shrug before stepping out.

 

He made his way to the front desk anxiously and saw his mother, father, and Shiro from down the hall.   _Oh God, what's happened?_ he thought.  If Shiro took the day off of work, then this definitely was nothing good.

 

His parents saw him walking up and they waited.  Keith could tell they were anxious, and even Shiro looked restless.  That was even more not good to add to the already growing pile of Oh No-ness.

 

“What happened?” he asked when he was within speaking distance.  His parents shared a look before his mother answered him. “We’ll tell you in the car.  It's quite serious.”

 

They turned away after that, heading towards the doors.  Keith looked at Shiro, and his older brother put a hand on his shoulder, leading him out.  “Don't worry. They aren't mad at you, I promise,” he said, which did nothing to make Keith feel better.

 

When they arrived at the car, Keith's mother stopped and turned to him.  Her eyes were scared and worried. “Keith,” she said simply. Said teen flinched at his name, and looked up at his mother.

 

She had short black hair with a few stray gray strands from age, and her face showed it as well.  She was a Japanese woman with warm brown eyes, and it was times like these when all Keith could think of was how unlike his birth mother she looked.  Though he could only vaguely remember her, he knows she had sharp, dark blue eyes like him, and he held a sense of fear to her memory. His adoptive mother was much nicer.

 

“I want you to know that your father and I are not at all upset at you, and we don't even know if what has happened was your fault.  I would just like to know something, okay?” She spoke gently and comfortingly, knowing Keith didn't handle confrontation well. He was thankful his new family understood.

 

He nodded to his mother, urging her on.

 

She took a breath, closing her eyes like she was composing herself, and when she opened them again her eyes were guarded.  “Did you lock the front door this morning when you left for school?” she asked.

 

Keith's stomach fell.  His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, and he knew he wouldn't be able to speak if he tried, so he shook his head slowly.

 

His mother took another breath and looked at the ground.  Keith's heart rate was increasing by the second as he kept his eyes trained on his mother.  He didn't lock the door this morning. Something bad happened. This could only mean one thing, it meant--

 

“Someone broke into our house after you left this morning, Keith,” his father spoke from beside him.  He felt Shiro’s hand land on his shoulder again, and it squeezed. Keith's body felt heavy as if it was lead.

 

“The serial robberies?” he heard himself ask, looking up at his father.  The skinny man sighed. “The police are looking around now, but that's what they suspect.”

 

Of course it was.  

 

Of _course_  was.  

 

Of course, the one day Keith forgets to set his alarm and is almost late for the bus and forgets to lock the door is the same _fucking_ day some robber is in the neighborhood.

 

Because of course.

 

He doesn't even register he’s crying until his mother pulls him in for a hug, and he doesn't even know why he is crying.  It was just a robbery. Thank God they weren't home when it happened. Past reports say the culprit is likely armed.

 

But then a million thoughts and questions flood his head.   _What did they steal?  How bad is the damage?  What will it cost? Will insurance cover it?  What won't insurance cover? What--_

 

“Hey, Keith,” his mother broke into his thoughts before they could get much worse.  He looked up at her to find her smiling softly. “It's nothing too bad. After we get the police reports we’ll be able to send them to our insurers and they’ll cover everything.  From what we could tell, it's just our TVs and computers, but they did trash some of the house. After we clean up, it’ll be like nothing happened.”

 

Keith took a shaky breath and nodded, letting out a quiet sob.  His mother rubbed his back and he felt his father and Shiro hug him as well.

 

They stood in the parking lot like that for a while.  After Keith had calmed down enough not to sob, they all piled into the car and made their way home.

 

***

 

Once they arrived, Keith was instantly anxious with the number of police cars in the driveway and on the street.

 

He saw a few officers on their neighbor's doorsteps, questioning them, and when he went inside he saw, even more, conversing in the kitchen.  His parents went over to them to ask for updates and Shiro leads him up the stairs.

 

From what Keith was able to see when he quickly glanced into the living room, the TV was gone, the couch cushions were ripped off the sofa and strewn around the room, the magazines, and the coffee table also decorating the floor, and shelves ripped down.  A few picture frames were broken as well.

 

“The police have already accessed and photographed upstairs, so we should start cleaning up,” he said simply, and Keith nodded, opening the door to his room.  He felt exhausted just looking at the mess.

 

His closet door was slid open, clothes and paint supplies that was stored in there vomiting out onto the ground.  His dresser drawers were pulled out, the pictured on top pushed over, and he could see his small assortment of cheap, Hot Topic jewelry was taken.

 

His knick-knacks that were on the shelves on the left wall were strewn across the room, his jar of dirt broken, dirt spilling onto his floor.  From where he was standing, Keith could tell some books were missing.

 

On the back wall, the drawers of his desk were pulled out, their contents now on the floor like many other things.

 

And the tears were back.  As Keith looked at the mess strangers who he never met made in his house, he felt an anxiety attack coming on and he was honestly surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

 

All he had to do was turn to his older brother, and Shiro instantly understood.  He closed the door and enveloped him in a hug, rubbing lines down his back and trailing his fingernails on his arms.

 

And they stayed like that for a good while, Keith crying and cursing his damn forgetfulness and his alarm clock and the lock on the front door and the robbers, hoping to God he could at least replace everything that was lost or broken, praying the police would catch the culprits soon, and wishing it was a normal day where he was at school.

**Author's Note:**

> oof


End file.
